


3 am

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: 3 am, Drarry, Everyone Is Gay, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Obviously lol, Swearing, it's like only fluff, might add smut at the end, no one - Freeform, no one is straight, probably not tho
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2018-12-14 13:10:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 20,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11783838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Harry can't sleep. He doesn't know why, but doesn't regret it all the same.





	1. Night One

Harry lays, wide awake, staring at the Gryffindor boys' dormitory. Life hasn't been the same since the battle of Hogwarts, but he and Ron (through lots of complaining and persuasion) were dragged along to finish their school days by and with Hermione. 

He tolls to his side and stares out the crack in his bed curtains and out the window. He sees pure darkness. It reminds him of Voldemort; the darkness, the misery, the overwhelming feeling of wanting to jump off a bridge and end your life in a big pile of human remains and bone and organs... Woah, calm down. 

He groans, realising that he's not going to fall asleep any time soon and pushes back the coverings of his four-poster and slips on his socks to cover his feel from freezing. He walks to his trunk and grabs the invisibility cloak (wrapping it around his body) and the Marauders Map, tucking it to his chest. 

He leaves the room and enters the common room, a few embers still alight in the fireplace from a couple fourth-years that went to bed earlier. 

"Lumos," he mutters and the tip of his wand glows with a slight blue tint to it. He holds it to the blank map and mutters, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good,"

He can see the map properly now. 

Hermione Granger, pacing in the Gryffindor girls dormitory. 

Marietta Daye and Penelope Kitt are stood in the middle of the Hufflepuff common room. 

Harry Potter is making his way out of the fat lady's portrait. 

He walks down the big Hogwarts corridor. The same corridor he found Snape scolding Quirrel in back in year one. The same corridor he and Hermione had raced down back in year three. The same corridor Hermione had lead him and Umbridge down back in year five. The same corridor he... He would rather not relive these memories. 

He enters the rubble-filled Great Hall, remembering the first day he had entered this amazing school as if it was yesterday. 

Harry makes his way down to the edge of the black lake. The same lake he had saved all three Cho, Ron, and Gabrielle back in year four during the Triwizard Tournament. 

He sits down and stares out onto the lake, his lit up wand still brightly glowing and invisibility cloak still wrapped tightly around himself. After a few minutes of pure silence, he takes off the cloak and throws it aside with the map, his wand still clutched in his hand. 

He twirls the wand between his fingers for a few moments before he hears footsteps coming from the school. 

"Who's there?"

Harry stands up and holds his wand out in front of himself at arms length. Through the slight light the tip of his want is giving off, he sees the pairing of grey eyes and bleach blonde hair walking toward him. 

"Chill, Potter,"

"What are you doing down here at this time, Malfoy?"

Malfoy gets closer and Harry sees the purple and blue bags under Malfoys eyes, paired with even paler than usual skin. Malfoy walks past Harry and sits down on the grass, staring out at the lake. 

"I dunno... Couldn't sleep,"

"Oh,"

Harry stands still, his wand still in his hand, but his arm at his side. He looks at the back of Malfoys head at the unkempt Harry-ness of the bright blonde hair. 

"Why are you still stood up?"

"Why are you sat down?" Harry retorted, still staring at the back of Malfoys head. 

"Because my legs get tired when I stand too long," Malfoy says. He pats the grass next to himself, "must happen to you too. Have a seat. I don't bite,"

Harry is reluctant, but he eventually does take the spot next to Malfoy, only a couple inches further, his wand still being held tightly in his hand. 

"What brings you out here so early?" Malfoy speaks through the silence. 

"That war has kinda traumatized me... Haven't slept in god knows how long," Harry says, "plus, Rons snoring is obnoxiously loud,"

At this, Malfoy actually laughs a bit. It's short, but it somehow sounds like music to Harrys ears. "I have to be honest, I've always been jealous of yours and the Weasels friendship."

"Why?" Harry looks at Malfoy. Why is he telling Harry this? Answers to this question gob through his head like one of those muggle slot machine things, and it lands on 3 am delirium. 

"Well, Crabbe and Goyle were both huge block heads, and all Pansy wanted to do was gossip,"

"What about Blaise?"

"Never really got to know him until last year, so we're not very close,"

"So you're all alone?"

"Basically, yeah,"

The two sit quietly, listening to the water rippling. "Why are you talking to me?"

Malfoy looks up at Harry's question, "haven't been able to talk to anyone at all, really. Dads in Azkaban, mums being put on probation and isn't allowed contact with anyone, and, like I said, my 'friends' don't like real talks,"

Harry feels a ping of sympathy in his heart. He's always had someone to talk to, whether is was Dumbledor or Sirius before they died, or Ron or Hermione when they weren't stressed for examinations, or even Molly and Arthur Weasley when he was staying at The Burrow. He always had someone to talk to, but Malfoy, he didn't. 

"I can be here if you want to talk,"

Malfoy looks up at Harry and they smile at each other slightly, "sure,"

And with that, the two of them began a three-hour-long talk about Malfoy, Harry keeping in his mind that it was the tired side of Malfoy he was talking to the entire time. 

"This was nice," Malfoy says after they agree to go back to their dormitories when they see then sun begin to rise. "I feel like I've gotten a lot off of my shoulders,"

"I can always be here, if you want," Harry offers, picking up his invisibility cloak and Marauders map from the grass, "just say something like 'Thunderbird' when we're in hearing distance of each other. I can say it too if I want to talk,"

"But how'll we know when it's a good time?"

"I'm always the only Gryffindor awake." Harry lowers his voice and says to himself, "but Hermione is always pacing in the girls dormitory,"

"Yeah, that'll work. Um, see you tomorrow?"

Malfoy reaches for a handshake whilst Harry leans in for a hug, it's awkward for a second but they just turn it into a fist-bump. 

Malfoy stands still for a second, staring at Harry, before taking a deep breath, saying "yeah", turning around and leaving back into the castle. 

Harry follows after a few moments and makes his way back up to Gryffindor tower. 

^^^^^

"Harry, where were you?" Ron asks groggily as Harry takes off his invisibility cloak and stuffing it in the trunk at the end of his bed. 

"Early morning walk?" The statement comes out as more of a question. Harry flinches. 

"Okay," and with that, Ron rolls over again and his snoring is once again filling the room. 

Harry sits back in his bed and lays down, staring at the Marauders map with the help of his wand. He watches people all over the castle eventually wake up and get ready for the day. 

Minerva McGonagall is making her way to the Great Hall. 

Alex Santiago and Tyler DeSanchez are sat together in the Ravenclaw common room. 

Hermione Granger is alone in the girls Gryffindor dormitories. 

Draco Malfoy is in the owlrey. 

Harry watches Malfoys footsteps stand still for a few moments then exit the owlrey, walking back down to the Slytherin dungeons and joining Elise Daye and Pansy Parkinson in the common room. 

"Harry! Ron! Wake up!"

The only other eighth-year Gryffindor student bounds into the room and pulls back the curtains of both their four-posters at the same time. Ron groans, squeezing his eyes shut and turning over. 

Harry's head shoots up from the Marauders map and looks at Hermione with wide eyes. 

"You looks wide awake," Hermione says, looking at Harry. 

"Been up since about six am. Haven't fell asleep since then," Harry lies, "what time is it right now?"

"Seven thirty," Hermione says, pulling on Ron's arm in an effort to wake him up. 

Harry leaves the couple alone and gets ready for the day. Ron groggily joins him in the shower room and they get ready together. The two wait in the common room for Hermione for only a few minutes then the three of them make their way to the Great Hall. 

The four house tables are replaced with one big table in the middle of the room, with about 30 people sitting along it. Ginny and Luna are sat together, talking and eating their breakfast. 

"Harry!"

as Ginny jumps up from the bench and wraps her arms around Harry, he catches Malfoys gaze for a split second. He has bags under his eyes and sitting across from Pansy, a sad look spread across his pale face. 

Ginny oulls the three of them to the table and they sit down together, Hermione and Ron across from the other three. 

"Look! The post's come early!" Marietta Daye of Hufflepuff squeals, pointing at ten owls coming from the owl entrance in the roof. 

All of them are carrying either a letter or a copy of The Daily Prophet. Harry looks down at his food after seeing a snowy owl that isn't Hedwig, poking around the scrambled eggs with his fork. 

"Harry! You have post!" Ron flicks his best friends head and Harry looks up, seeing a white piece of parchment in front of his plate, a barn owl flying away. He picks up the letter and unrolls it. 

Thanks. oh right, Harry. sometimes the feeling is Unanimous in my brain, but other times it feels as though a huge wa fight is going on, people voting on how i should feel about you. you're actually really Nice. Don't you feel the same about me? i hope so. Even though im a huge prick, i Really feel you should continue being nice to me. 

Harry realises who this letter is from. He holds it close to his chest. 

Being nice is hard for me, just look at the environment I was brought up in. Ravenclaws and hufflepuffs have no trouble being nice. right, im rambling again. 

-D.m

"What is it?" Ginny asked, reaching for the letter from Malfoy after seeing the smile on Harrys face. 

He holds the letter close to his chest, "it's private,"

"Okay, fine," Ginny crossed her arms as Harry rolls up the parchment again and glances at Malfoy, who is staring at Harry and smiling. 

Harry smiles at Malfoy and excuses himself from the table. Ginny and Ron ask to come with him to the Library, but he refuses and makes his way down to the huge book-filled room, the letter from Malfoy held in his hand. He sits in one chair, staring at the letter, a smile plastered on his face. 

He stares at the letter, reading it over and over again before realising some of the words in the middle of sentences are capitalized. He goes through all the unnecessary capitalization; U, N, R, and D. 

"U, N, R, D? Unrd? Drnu?"

After a few moments of mumbling to himself, trying to figure out what these letters meant, five words appeared at the bottom of the page. 

All capital letters, you idiot. 

He reads the words and grabs a spare piece of parchment from his bag and a self-inking quill. "Alright, T,"

He writes down all the capitalized letters on the parchment. They create one word; Thunderbird. 

"That's clever," Harry says to himself, rolling up both pieces of parchment and tucking them back in his bag. 

He makes his way back down to the Great Hall, seeing Malfoy and Pansy walking the opposite direction on the way and nodding at Malfoy. He rejoins his friends at the table and begins eating again, a small smile on his face.


	2. Night Two

Draco makes his way down the huge dark corridor, his wand radiating a small amount of light, his mouth ready to say 'nox' in case a professor catches him out this late, his feet walking lightly, and his heart beating fast for two reasons. 

Reason one, being out after hours results in detention and detention this year is cleaning up extra bits of rubble they forgot clean up during the summer. Draco would absolutely hate that. 

Reason two, he's early. He didn't want to seem eager to talk to Potter, so he only left a few moments early, but almost immediately regretted it as Potter was there first yesterday and what if he always wanted to be first? What if he thought Draco to be weird? Or eager? Or even something else?

He walks quietly, taking a step for everyone else's two steps, very slow, long strides. It's cold in the castle, unnecessarily cold. He doesn't like it, and with a shiver, Draco tightens the robes around his silver satin pajamas. 

He eventually passes the Great Hall and makes his way down the hill to the completely and eerily quiet black lake. He lets go a breath when he sees Potters silhouette sat in the spot it was yesterday, a small star like piece of light bobbing and flying through the air only inches in front of him. 

"Potter," Draco says once he's only a few feet behind him. "Hey, there,"

"Malfoy," Potter says, his voice monotone. Draco flinches at the sound of his last name; he's come to hate it over these past few months, from seeing his family putting a bad reputation onto it and seeing it constantly in The Daily Prophet. He used to be so proud of it, but now, nopity nope. "You're early,"

The two words Draco didn't want to hear. "Oh, didn't even realise," Draco says and sits a foot to the left of Potter, both their wands still glowing. The two boys sit silently for a few moments then Potter speaks up:

"That was clever,"

Draco looks at him and they lock eyes, "what was?"

"That note-letter thing. Very all over the place, though; unbelievable as a real letter, but very smart all the same,"

"Thanks," Draco smiles slightly, a slight dimple showing that Potter- or anyone, for that matter -has ever seen. 

"You have dimples?" Potter asks, pointing his index finger at Dracos cheek. 

"I guess." Draco pokes his cheek. 

The night is dark. And cold, very cold. With every passing moment, both boys regret not dressing warmer, but ignore it though their three-hour conversation. By the end, small specks of snow begin to fall, and the sun begins to rise, the two of them agreeing on going back to their dormitories. Draco stands up first and waits for Potter to grab his stuff. 

"Well, see you tomorrow?" Draco asks, standing awkwardly in front of Potter. 

"Uh, sure. Yeah," Potter smiles, rocking on the balls of his feet. Draco turns around and waves, making his way up the hill and back into the castle. "Hey, wait!"

Draco turns around, stopped dead in his tracks, and sees Potter running up the hill after him, his invisibility cloak and map held in his arms. He removes the map from under his forearms and thrusts it forward into Dracos chest. 

"What?" Draco asks, looking at Potters arm. 

"Have it. You will be able to tell who's near, so you can hide. I won't need it, I have this thing-" Potter gestures to the invisibility cloak, "take it, it'll help you,"

"No, I can't. It's your map, and I've made it back and forth a couple times and not gotten caught,"

"There's a first time for everything," Potter shrugs. 

Draco glares at him and reluctantly takes the parchment from Potters grasp. A small (smug) smile is spread across across Potters face. Draco opens the folded map and looks at the blankness of it. 

"Is this some kind of joke?" Draco asks, looking at the Gryffindor. 

"Oh, right," Potter stuffs away cloak so it's hanging out his back pocket. "The way this thing works-" he moves so he's beside Draco, the small height difference showing, "what you do is put your want do it and say 'I solemnly swear that I am up to no good,' and a map of the school shows up. The footprints of all the students and professors and anyone in the castle, really, show up and you can see where they go. When you're done with it, you just hold your wand to it and say 'mischief managed'- got it?"

"Uh, yeah," Draco nods and takes a step backwards and into the school. He keeps his gaze held on the map and does what Potter muss just told him to do; he holds his wand to the parchment and mutters, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good,"

He makes his way back to the Slytherin dormitories, his attention half on being quiet and half on the amazingness of the map. How does someone do this? How much does Potter use it? Who created it? Draco decides to ask Potter all these questions next time they meet. 

He approaches the door to the Slytherin dormitories and says the password, then makes his way in and finds his way back to his bed. He stays up for another twenty minutes, admiring the map, staring at Potters footsteps as he walks back to the Gryffindor tower. 

Draco is amazed at how much longer the walk from the lake to Gryffindor tower is than to the Slytherin dungeons. He could never has been there before Potter unless he left ten minutes earlier, and that wouldn't work as Pansy would always stay up until she was sure Draco was 'asleep'. (nudge nudge wink wink)

As soon and Potter is back in Gryffindor tower and in his bed, Draco stood up from sitting on the side of his bed and put the map in his school bag, which was handing from the door. 

He falls asleep for the last thirty minutes before his alarm goes off. 

^^^^^

Draco makes his way down the corridor beside Pansy, who is talking about god knows what. Draco has his attention elsewhere. 

Potter has been treating me nicely. Like a... Oh god, I don't even want to say it in my head... F-friend. Wow. 

These are the words that drown out Pansy's words, and he's snapped back to consciousness when his only 'friend' smacks his arm, and he finds himself in the doorway to the Great Hall, where the one table is already almost full, apart from a few seats at the very end, across from each other. 

Pansy pulls Draco to the seats and she sits him down in one, she then sitting in the one across from him. 

"So," a Pansy begins, pouring herself a bowl of cereal, "what do you think?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, I think it's a good idea,"

"That I go to the ball in blue?"

"What? Oh, right. The Yule Ball is in a month." Dracos attention is back on his friend, "yeah, what's wrong with blue?"

"Well, first of all, it's the colour of those smarty pants, and second, Granger wore it back in year four. Do you not remember?"

"Oh, yeah, I remember," he's now poking around his cereal with his spoon, "I think you should go with green again- gotta keep that house pride, right,"

"But then people will think I'm predictable. I can't go with pink either, I don't look good in pink, or yellow..."

As Pansy continues talking to herself, thinking Draco is still listening, his mind is once again no where in particular. He eats his cereal quietly, saying a quiet 'yeah' or sending a small nod every time he hears Pansy say his name. 

"Well, two colours might be nice. Purple with accents of blue? What about purple and green?..."

"You see, Harry, sometimes two people date and they don't like each other. It's not uncommon," he hears Grangers voice say from the entrance of the Great Hall, followed by a groan and a quiet "okay" in Potters voice. 

Draco looks to his left and sees Potter sit on the same side as Pansy, but about seven or eight feet further, and Granger and Weasley sit across from him, the two of them holding hands. 

He listens to the trio'a conversation, hearing and seeing stress in Potters voice and face through the occasional glances. 

"Hey Harry!" Weasley's younger sister exclaims, hugging Potter from behind and kissing his cheek. 

"Hey, Ginny, I-"

"Sorry, I need to go early- see you later?" She calls behind her and Longbottom pulls her arm and Lovegood stands beside him, looking dazed as ever. 

"Actually, Ginny, I need- oh, okay, bye." Potter turns back around and lets his head fall in his arms. 

Someone that respects you. Jesus Christ, Weasley, what is wrong with you? Are the only words in Dracos mind as he watches Weasley run away with her two friends, a waffle in her mouth. 

"What was that, Draco?" Pansy stops her rant of dress colours. 

"Did I say that outloud? I did, didn't I?" Draco groans. 

"No, I just heard you basically growl something, it was weird,"

"I'm not hungry anymore, that's it,"

"Alright... So, how does blue and purple dress and white accessories sound?"

"Yeah, sounds good,"

Seriously, Potter, I know I probably shouldn't be saying this about the saviour of the wizarding world, I know you're stupid, but not stupid enough to stay with that girl. Seriously, absolute idiot you are. Draco says to himself, his head down toward the bowl, but eyes on Potter, who is eating a waffle with nothing but gloom in his eyes. 

"Completely off topic, but," Draco hears Potter say after they make a split second of eye contact, "Hermione, if we were American, what house do you think I would be in? You'd definitely be in Thunderbird. And Ron?"

Draco looks back at Potter and they catch eye contact again, Draco nodding and smiling, the corner of Potter's mouth twitching from trying to hold back a smile as he turned back to his friends. 

"I dunno, probably Horned Serpent or something. That's really the only- what was it, Ilvermoony? Silvermoon? Right, Ilvermorny- house I know of," Granger looks back to her cereal an Draco hears her mumble, "what a weird name for a school,"

"Says the best student in Hogwarts. Literally, hog-warts," Weasley replied, looking at his girlfriend with love in his eyes. 

Weasley and Granger take a moment to kiss, then some more moments, then an unnecisary amount of moments to snog. Potter takes these moments to look at Draco and they make eye contact then smile at each other. 

Draco turns his head back to Pansy, a blush spread across his cheeks and nose. She notices this and looks in the direction Draco was just looking, the sits back, a smug smile on her face. 

"What?" Draco asks. 

"Nothing," she replies, stretching the word out.


	3. Night Three

Harry lays awake once again, his eyes fighting to close every few seconds, but his brain and heart both winning and forcing the emerald green eyes open. 

Once Ron's snoring is filling the room, Harry looks at the time and sees he's running five minutes late, then proceeds to do all he has to in order to get down to the lake quickly. 

He quietly opens the trunk at the end of his bed and gets the invisibility cloak from the trunk, freaking out when the Marauders map isn't wrapped safely in it, then only a minute later, remembering he leant it to Malfoy to use. 

He laughs at his stupidity then makes his way down into the common room, where there is a shadow cast out from Hermiones favourite chair, a piece of oarchement in her lap and a quill scratching on it, a smirk playing on her lips. 

His best friend is so caught up in what she is writing that she doesn't notice when the fat lady'a portrait swings open at no one. Harry sighs at this and slips out of the room and races down the hall, making sure as to not step on the cloak. 

The walk (run) is short and well timed, as the moment he desends from the last step into the Entrance Hall, Malfoy is stepping outside the map stuffed lazily into his back pocket and wand radiating a bit of light, reminding Harru that he didn't use any light on the way down and could've easily fallen and broken a bone. 

"Malfoy!" Harry calls, pulling the cloak off of his head and following a few paces behind Malfoy. Malfoy turns around and smiles at Harry. "Hello there,"

"Hi,"

"Shall we sit?" Harry asks in the most posh voice he can muster, gesturing with his left hand to the place he and the slightly (frustratingly) taller boy usually sit. 

Malfoy lets out a small laugh and sits down, replying in a posh voice, "we shall,"

They sit only a few inches closer this night, both boys staring out into the calm lake, a few ripples coming every few minutes from the giant squid. 

Malfoy is just about to start the conversation, when Harry says, "Ron would kill me if I said this to him,"

"What?" Malfoy looks up at the other boy, curiosity fleeting across his face. 

"I kinda want to break up with Ginny,"

Malfoy smiles, but wipes it away after seeing Harrys serious face. "And why is that?"

"Don't get me wrong, she's great, and smart, and funny, and everything, but I don't really see her in that way." Harry looks up to see if Malfoy is listening, and sighs relief when he sees Malfoy is listening as if every word is going to be the last Harry ever says to him. "She'd more like a sister to me, y'know. When we began dating, we spent every minute we could with each other, but now, she's just always with Neville and Luna. It's quite annoying, really."

Malfoy is looking out at the lake with a mix of concern and intruige and happiness and pride on his face. 

Harry is surprised at both himself and Malfoy. How can he read his facial expressions so well? And why is Malfoy happy and proud out of all- millions -of emotions?

"I'd say go for it," Malfoy shrugs, "you gave some good reasons there, it'd be good for you to be with someone that will do anything for you,"

"Really?"

"Mmhm." Malfoy nods at the dark skinned boy, "I would,"

"You would what?"

"Break up with someone that treats me like that," nice save there, Malfoy. 

"Thanks,"

Harry turns back to the lake and stares into the black abyss, thinking about how he's going to break up with Ginny and how she'll take it and Malfoy, of all things. 

"Hey, Potter?"

Harry turns back to Malfoy, "yeah?"

"That map, I was looking at it yesterday and I got wondering, how was it made? And who made it, I wanna tell them how amazing it is," Malfoy picks up the map, and smiles at it a bit. 

"Oh, well," Harry frowns but Malfoy doesn't notice. "When my dad and Sirius and Remus and Peter were at school, they made this and called it the 'Marauders map,' as they were nicknamed the Marauders. I have no clue how they made it, but since Remus..." Harry gulps. "Died," the word is dry and croaky, "it hasn't been working very well. It still works, but sometimes it will show people on the wrong floor and close at random moments, but it's still fine and a piece of my dad and his friends I can hold to my heart,"

Malfoy has trouble taking this all in. Harry seems so sad all of a sudden, and Malfoy feels he's the one to blame. 

"Oh, Potter, sorry, I didn't know." He places and hand on Harry's back. 

Harry is surprised at this gesture of comfort. "Thanks,"

"You know," Malfoy speaks up after a few minutes of a comfortable silence, "Can we start calling eachother by our first names?"

Harry has a surprised look on his face as he looks at the pale boy. Malfoys face drops, seeing Harry's expression and confusing it for something other than surprise. 

Two grey eyes clash two bright green as they look at eachother almost meaningfully. Harry slowly but surely begins smiling and nodding cheerfully. "Yeah, I'd like that, Draco,"

Draco grins and-thank Merlin for the darkness-blushes as Harry scoots closer to him. The warm body heat radiating off of the dark-skinned boy sends warm chills through Dracos body. 

"How has life been treating you?"

"Boring and sad, like every day these days,"

^^^^^

Red hair and auburn spots are the first things Harry sees when he's shaken awake by his two best friends. Ron has his grip on his left arm whilst Hermione has his right, both of them shaking him. 

"Harry! Harry, wake up!" Hermione calls. 

"What the- what do you want?" He slides his glasses on his nose and the other two settle back, Hermione sitting on his bed near his feet and Ron in a cushy armchair beside their nightside tables.

"We go to Hogsmead today! Get up and ready, we leave at eleven," it astonishes Harry how fast Hermione talks and leaves the room. 

The boys look at eachother. "That's the woman I'm going to marry someday," Ron mutters as Harry sits up and yawns. 

"What time is it?"

Rob casts a tempus and shows the time is nine thirty. Harry gets out of bed and leads the two of them into the showers. 

"Why is she so excited? We've been going for the last five years," Harry mutters as he gets into his shower. 

"I dunno,"

Then, Harry remembers Draco. 

The morning goes by in a flash, full of warm oatmeal and fresh strawberries and still not being able to call it quits with Ginny. He catches Dracos eye at breakfast and says with his own 'Flitwicks classroom after this' and hopes Draco caught the gist. 

Unfortunately, he did not. Harry waited outside the charms classroom for somewhere about ten minutes, then gave up waiting for his newfound friend, and decided to instead get his invisibility cloak and meet Draco in Hogsmead. 

Ron and Hermiobe clutch eachothers hands whilst staying a few strides in front of Harry almost the entire Hogsmead adventure. They pass candy shops and schoolwork shops and pubs until he finally realises that neither of them are going to either notice when he's gone or go into any of the shops, so he slips on the cloak and walks away. 

Walkibg into an invisible force is really confusing, Harry learned after seeing the looks on a couple third year Slytherins faces. Slytherin!

He stands on his tiptoes, mentally cursing himself for getting his mothers height genes and looks through the crowd of people for a head of platinum blonde hair. 

Damn, he's never realises how many blondes go to Hogwarts until now. 

Fibally, Harry sees three different people all stood together; a tall black boy, a short black haired girl, and Draco. 

He scoots his way through the crowd so he stands next to Draco, who is looking through a window, looking at a very expensive quill. 

"That's really nice. I wonder if mother would send me some-right. Never mind,"

Harry smirks and looks at the price. 200 Galleons?! Shit. It's times like these he really appreciates his grandfathers fortune, or else he wouldn't be able to give the person he's spilled his heart to a gift. He sneaks in the shop and sticks the cloak in his back pocket, revealing himself to a bunch of rich teenagers buying new quills. 

"Hello sir, what would you like?"

"That-what's it called-200 Galleon priced quill on display at there front over there? Yeah, that,"

The snooty old man scoffs at Harry's 'impoliteness' but obliges all the same and gets the huge, gold accented, pure white, fluffy feather quill, holding it as if it's his newborn baby. 

"Would you like ink to go with his, sir?" 

"No thanks,"

Harry digs around in his pouch and eventually finds two sticks of 100 galleons rolled up. He sets them on the counter as the old man packages up the quill in a royal purple bag stuffed with gold tissue paper. 

He takes the bag in his hand and begins his way out, but as he squeezes through two fifth year Hufflepuff boys, the old man grumbles, with displeasure, "have a nice day, sir!"

"Wish I could say the same to you!" Then Harry quickly adds, "abd don't call me 'sir'!"

As he exits the shop with the clock on his body again, he just misses Draco pushing his way through the crowd behind Parkinson and Zabini. He rushes after him, then once he's by his side, he casts a non-verbal Muffliato then mutters in Dracos ear, "it's me, Harry. Meet me near the forest in five minutes,"

Draco almost jumps the height of Harry but silently nods and Harry walks away, standing near one of the trees by the exit of Hogsmead. 

He only waits somewhere around four minutes before Draco approaches, with a scared look on his face. 

"Okay, I'll make this quick. I got you a gift," Harry mutters, shoving the purple bag to Dracos chest. 

Draco looks at Harry suspiciously before digging into the bag and finding the quill, only to burst out laughing. 

"What? You find it funny? I spent 200 Galleons on it, tell me you like it," Harry says expectantly, studying Dracos features, staring st the dimples on his cheeks. 

"That's what I find funny. You probably spent your entire life savings on me." Draco looks Harry in the eye abd shoves the bag in his direction. "It's yours, not mine,"

"I bought it for you. I saw how you were looking at it," Harry pushes the bag back. "It's yours. I insist,"

Draco positively beams and hugs Harry unexpectantly. "Thanks," he whispers in Harry's ear before running off and rejoining his fellow Slytherins.


	4. Night Four

Draco lays awake in his four-poster, staring at the dark grey ceiling of his room. Images of Harry and the quill fly around his mind. The quill sits on his desk, right next to a small jar of dark green ink, whilst Harry is definitely already making his way down to the black lake. 

He looks to the side table, where Harry's map lays open. A small bit of guilt forms in his stomach, remembering how sad Harry looked when telling him those facts about his father and Sirius and Remus and that rat-faced, two-timing, arsehole. He sighs heavily, then sits up, taking the map into his hands. 

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," Draco mutters, pressing the tip of his wand to the old parchment. Footsteps begin showing up everywhere, most of them in their dormitories, but a couple, such as Harry, are out and walking. 

He follows Harry's footsteps as he walks down flights of stairs, not realising when his feet stop right outside the Slytherin door and step to the side. 

Harry did say it will sometimes show people on the wrong floor, so Draco just shrugs this off as one of those times and Harry a floor above or two, examining a painting he's never noticed before. 

The painting must be very interesting, as Harry stands there, staring at it, until Draco finally decides it's time to leave and gets up. The stone floor is cold under his bare feet, and the thin silver pajamas don't help the problem. He flips his bright blonde hair from his face and makes his way into the common room. 

Pansy is sleeping on the dark green sofa with her head on Blaise's chest, his arm around her in a protective hug. He mentally 'aww's at the sight of them, and, remembering to be silent, opens the giant door and steps out into the corridor. 

Draco only makes it a few steps before his arm is begging tugged on by an invisible force. Turning around with his wand at the ready, Harry reveals himself from under the cloak, grinning. 

"Hey," Harry grins at Draco's surprised face. "Did I scare you?"

"No. I don't get scared,"

"Oh, pwecious wittle Dwaco Lucius Mawfoy denies being scared by his fwiend!"

"You are not my friend, you idiot,"

Harry covers Draco with the cloak, which makes both of them covered and only inches from one another. 

"You keep telling yourself that,"

Harry begins walking without warning, which causes Draco to trip a bit, but both eventually walking in sync, Draco still tiptoeing and being as undetectable as possible. 

"You can stop being so cowardly, Dray, walk normally. No one can see you,"

Harry stares forward the entire time this statement leaves his mouth, and Draco stands up straight, the two and a half inch height difference between them clear. Harry curses to himself about this difference. 

"Alright, but don't ever call me 'Dray' again,"

"Okay, Malfoy,"

"Or that,"

"Just 'Draco'? That's boring,"

"Yes, Potter, just 'Draco'."

"So I'm not Harry any more? Aww shucks,"

Draco grins. The Marauders Map is folded up in his hand as they walk, and he pulls it up to look at it. Footprints are all around the school, but the pair that stands out most to him is Granger in the Gryffindor tower. 

"What's she doing up?"

He shows Harry the footprints in the tower. 

"She has for the last few days, maybe even weeks. I dunno what she's up to, and I honestly don't care either. She's probably just re-checking Ron's homework, it's so bad,"

"Alright. If you say so," a Draco keeps his silver gaze fixed upon the map as the walk. 

"Put it away, I didn't see anyone at all. Well, except Peeves, and he was in the Potions classroom writing on the blackboard," Harry pull the map from Draco's hands and folds it up. It's between the two of them, each one holding a end of it. 

Draco thanks the lords that it's dark out, or else Harry would've been able to see his blush easily against his pale skin. It's so unfair, it's hard to tell when he blushes. 

They climb a couple flights of stairs and find their way out to the edge of the black lake. They sit in their usual spot, Harry's legs outstretched and Draco's legs bent with his wand in her hand. Harry's knee touches Draco's thigh lightly. 

"Who are you taking to the Yule Ball?" Harry asks. 

Draco has to think. He hasn't asked anyone, and no body has asked him. There's no Dlytherins available, Blaise an Pansy are going together and Greg and Millicent are gong together. Why would he go with Greg or Millicent anyway? Even as friends?

"No one. Yet, I think. You?"

"Same,"

"What about Weasley's sister? Isn't she your girlfriend?"

"Well, yeah. But so far it seems like we're not. Sometimes I feel like she's dating Luna. And I'm gonna break up with her before the ball,"

"Jeez, Potter, I didn't need your entire life story,"

Harry spares a glance at Draco, causing his stomach to tie in a knot at the glint of mischievousness in those green eyes. 

"Well, that means you want it, so... It started on the 31st of June, 1980. It was a warm day, it was nice,"

Draco finds himself actually listening. 

"All was well for a year. Then, Voldemort attacked my family and killed my parents. And instead of going to live with Remus or something, Dumbledore and McGonnagle thought it was a good idea to send me to live with my abusive aunt and uncle. Then my life was shit, and here we are!"

"Very detailed, Potter, very much so indeed,"

Both boys laugh. 

Ehen the morning sun begins peeking out from behind its blanket of giant hills and water, the two agree to walk back to the Slytherin dormitories. They stand shoulder-to-shoulder as they walk. 

Its quiet and calm. Draco listens to Harry's light breathing. They don't bother with the map as there's little to no chance they're going to run into a student or professor this early on a Sunday. 

As they pass a cross road in corridors, Draco turns his head to look and sees Slughorns big belly and bushy moustache approaching them from the right. 

"Shit." Draco lifts an arm and pushes Harry backward, so the pale arm is across a dark chest and a dark back is against the wall. They're inches from eachother, Draco's neck craned to watch as Slughorn walks the corridor. 

He feels Harry's heavy breaths on his neck, causing him to blush furiously and his mind wander to some pretty nasty things, and blood goes somewhere other than his face. They watch as Slughorn stops for a moment to look around, evidently feeling their gaze on him, but shrugs it off and begins walking in the direction they just came from. 

Harry's hands find Draco's hips as they watch him walk. The touch causes butterflies to swarm in Draco's stomach and more blood to rush. 

Once Slughorn is out of ear shot, Draco is caught by surprise at a warm breath ghosting his ear. 

"It that your wand or dick?" Harry murmurs, Draco's eyes shoot open and he stares at Harry, more blood rushing to his face. 

"Why do you care?" Draco snaps back. He can feel the loose silk pajama bottoms getting more and more loose around more loose around the crotch area.

"B'cos you're standing right in front of me." Harry grins. "If didn't know better, I'd say I'm the cause,"

"No way in hell!" Draco jumps back and forces a lump in his throat down. He feels his feet and calves uncovered by the cloak and stumbles forward again toward Harry. 

"Let's go, Potter, before there's any more run-in's with anyone,"

Harry complies easily and they set off back down to the Slytherin dormitories. Draco walks faster than usual, determined to get into the shower as soon as he can. The door reveals itself as they approach, and Draco speeds up into a half-run, the invisibility cloak travelling up his calves quickly. 

"Salazar," he mutters quickly when they've stopped only a few feet in front of the door. 

"Slytherins, always known for their creativity. Well, see you later. Figure yourself out. Bye-" but before Harry can finish, Draco is racing through the halls and to the toilet. 

^^^^^

"And I was saying that we should match but then he said that we shouldn't and instead pick colours that contrast each other like pink and black but, as I said before, I don't look good in pink! Relationships are hard, boys suck, you know. Sometimes I wish I was a lesbian, how easy would that be? A significant other that actually understands you and your emotions? Oh, that would be so nice! And now I'm rethinking my entire life fuck," Pansy says in only two breaths, her short black hair swept up in two messy buns at either side of her head. 

Draco is staring off into space, laughing at his fellow Slytherin. 

"Oh shit what if I am a lesbian? I mean, it would make sense,"

"Do you find yourself staring at girls?"

"Yeah..."

"Do you ever wonder what it would be like kissing a girl?"

"Sometimes..."

"Have you ever fancied a girl?"

"Oh shit..."

Draco nods once as Pansy stops to stare at the ground and let her entire life flash before her eyes, then he walks away with a small smile.

Sunday. He's always considered it the best day, no school, not much homework, can just lounge around in pyjamas all day, just relax. And listen to Pansy's sexuality crisis. That was fun whilst it lasted. The Great Hall doors are wide open and Draco makes his way to the nearly empty eighth year table. 

He takes a piece of toast and a copy of the Daily Prophet. 

Pansy sits down beside him only five minutes later. "I think I'm a lesbian,"

"Good for you. And I think I'm a piece of trash,"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Honey, it's so obvious."

Pansy 'tuh's and begins eating her own breakfast. 

"WHAT!?"

The shriek catches everyone off guard and they turn around, only to see Harry and that Weasley girl stood feet away from eachother, her looking murderous and Harry terrified. Harry shoots the five people an apologetic look and turns back to the Weasley girl, her just running away. 

"Strange Gryffindors. Never understood them, never will." Pansy mutters. 

Draco turns back around to his plate, as does Pansy, but both immediately look up as an audible sigh can be heard from across the table. 

"What are you doing here, Potter?" Pansy spits. 

"I don't know, honestly. Just pretend I don't exist,"

Draco glances up at Harry. Harry seems to get the message and leaves quickly. 

"Remind me to never, ever, date a Gryffindor,"


	5. Night Five

"Come on, mate. It's alright." Ron pats Harry's back awkwardly. 

"Yeah. You didn't do anything wrong," Hermione adds from her spot on the floor. "You thought it was the right thing,"

"I still do think I did the right thing. I just feel... Strange. It's weird," Harry speaks. "I definitely liked her, I would probably go as far to say loved her. But, it didn't feel right."

"Yeah, we totally understand." Hermione rests her hand on Harry's knee, Ron glaring at the small touch of comfort. 

"But I don't feel like you do." Harry looks up at the fireplace. It's warm and cozy and everything he needs. 

"Yes we do. We've had relationships in the past that didn't work out," Ron says, gesturing between himself and Hermione. "But then we got together and never been happier,"

"I was in a relationship. I liked her. Only her. Now... I think I like someone else. I never thought I would ever like them,"

"Who is it, then?"

Harry's heartbeat begins racing and he suddenly finds difficulty breathing. "I would rather not say,"

"We're your best friends. We can know,"

"I said I didn't want you to know!" Harry stands quickly, knocking Hermione off balance. His palms are sweating in their fists and breathing ragged. 

"We won't get mad,"

"Dude, come off it. We only want to know,"

"But I don't want you to know. How hard is that concept?" Harry turns around abruptly and rushes out the portrait. "Don't try to find me."

The walls are already cold, even at the early hour of nine o'clock. It's what you get for having school in a giant castle in the middle of December. Harry shivers uncontrollably as he makes his way down to the dungeons for Draco. Passing empty classrooms and students out right before curfew, just about running. Peeves' face lights up at the view of Harry like this, but only gets a glare in reply. 

"What are you doing, Harry? It's almost bedtime," Luna rounds a corner, her hair up in two messy buns and wand stuck through one of them. 

"Out for a walk,"

"May I come?"

"I'd prefer if you didn't."

"Oh, okay. Goodbye!"

Luna is a great friend. Not pressuring you into doing something you don't want to do. Leaving you alone when you want privacy. Being close and always somehow happy. He wishes all his friends were like that. 

Harry nears the Great Hall, the stairs leading off toward the high dungeons only a few metres away. The sound of his footsteps on the stone steps echo loudly through the cold underground, but who really cares? He just broke up with his girlfriend and needs someone to talk to. Who in the world cares that he could get caught? What would they do, expell him? At his last year of school, expell the saviour of the wizarding world? 

The second staircase comes into view, leading down to the lowest level of the dungeons. Cold air absorbs into Harry's body, his teeth chattering in response. His footsteps echo louder than before as they land on the stone floor, one, two, one, two. 

The empty wall at the end of the long hall slowly reveals a big dark door. A knocker in the shape of a snake opens it's mouth to hiss as Harry gets closer and closer, but stops mid-way as he mutters 'Salazar'. The knocker freezes once again in its knocker form and grants Harry access. He enters the dorm slowly and quietly, careful not to take anyone off guard. 

"Whataya doin' in here?" A fifth year calls at him. All eyes are now on Harry. 

"I'm looking for Draco Malfoy," Harry grumbles. 

The fifth year closes her eyes then opens them again, glaring at Harry. "Why d'ya want him?"

Hes confused as to how to answer that question, confused by the wording and in which context she's asking, then simply says, "Flitwick said he needs to tutor me. We agreed on this time,"

"A'ight," the girl agrees then points down a randomly placed hallway. "He's down there somewhere. Dunno which room, though."

Harry gives her a skeptical look as he enters the hallway. He decided to keep the charade of he and Draco hating each other, so instead of calling 'Draco' over and over, he calls 'Malfoy'. And sure enough, the sharp face and platinum hair pops out from behind a door. 

"What the hell are you doing here, Potter?" He snaps. 

"Remember, you agreed to tutor me,"

Harry's widening eyes give Draco the impression of 'go with it', and grants Harry access to the room. He enters slowly, taken by surprise by only one bed in the middle of the room, the walls covered with green curtains and so obviously Draco-owned items scattered about the cluttered room. 

"You guys get your own rooms?" Harry asks, surprised. 

He turns to see Draco sat in one of a couple big chairs near the fireplace with a glass of what looks like pumpkin juice in his hand. "No, only the eighth years. Parents agreed to give money to the school to pay for the furniture and shit,"

"Wow..."

"You guys never got your own rooms?"

"Nah... Just beds and bedside tables and a portion of the wall." Harry seems stuck in place as he looks around the materialistic room. 

"Sit that ass down,"

Harry obliges and sits down. "If we ever have a sleepover, it's in here,"

"No sleepovers. Fuck that idea,"

"I never knew you swore so much,"

"Slytherin. How did you not?"

"Oblivious to anything around me. Don't worry about me finding out any secrets, it won't happen." Harry pauses then stands up. He slowly makes his way to Draco's chair, his fingers out like claws. "Unless I can,"

"Ah, no!" Draco squeals and slips under Harry's arm, running across the room. Harry chases after him, both their faces red with blush, Draco running from Harry and Harry chasing Draco with threatening tickling gestures. Harry almost gets hold of Dracos hand, but Draci manages to slip away but only to be tackled by Harry jumping on to him. 

"Ah!" Draco squeals through breaths of laughter. "No, ah!"

Harry is on top of Draco, holding his arm up with one hand and tickling with the other, straddling his hips as Draco lay on the bed. Blonde hair falls in front of his pale forehead as he howls with laughter. 

"Extremely ticklish, aren't we?" Harry mutters quietly. Draco finds feeling in his right hand and pushes Harry off of him, tears in his eyes. 

Harry rolls off to sit on the bed next to him, grinning widely. Who knew that he and Draco Malfoy would be so... Close, you could call it, in so little time? He and Draco Malfoy, known enemies for over seven years, could act like this with each other. He and Draco Malfoy, the literal spawn of Satan, could become friends. He and Draco Malfoy, could spill their hearts out to each other. He and Draco Malfoy, could f-

"I actually hate you," Draco mutters, his voice hoarse and oddly sexy. 

"Your grin says otherwise." Harry smirks and lays down with the other, both staring at the charmed ceiling, so it looks like stars twinkling in a 3 am sky. 

"You're the worst,"

"I saved your life." Harry remembers the time with the Fiendfyre and how tightly Draco had held on. The closest thing he'll ever get to a hug with him. 

"I also saved your life," Draco retorts. Harry remembers the time in the Malfoy Manor and how scared Draco was. He seemed so vulernable back then. That's the closet thing he'll ever get to seeing Draco being openly scared in front of more than three people. 

"Thank you for that, by the way." Harry turns his head to look at Draco and they make eye contact. 

"It's fine." Draco is reluctant at first, then adds, "Thanks for saving my ass back then as well,"

Harry simply nods and sends a friendly smile in Draco's direction, but the blonde is staring at the ceiling. His grey eyes twinkle with admiration for the stars, a small smile on his lips. Countless thoughts race through his head, half being calm and innocent thoughts. Who thought that Draco Malfoy, he Draco Malfoy, could be so... Harry doesn't want to say pretty, but there's no other word coming to his mind. 

"WHERE ARE YOU YOU SHIT HEAD!?" Pansy practically screams through the dormitories. Draco sits up quickly, frantically pacing the room. 

"Sit in one of the chairs," he instructs Harry. He locks the door and charms a bunch of parchment on the table, so it looks like they have been doing homework. 

"Draco I need to talk to you I want to-" Pansy begins as she enters the room but catches a glimpse of Harry in one of the chair. 

"Kinda busy," Draco gestures to Harry. Pansy nods once and leaves the room without another word. 

"What's with her?" Harry asks when Draco sits back down in his own chair. 

"She's having problems and thinks I can help her."

"What kind of problems?" 

"I don't think she would want me to tell you,"

"Please? I'll be our best friend!"

Draco smiles down at his lap,laughing at Harry. "She's having a sexuality crisis."

"Ah... And why can't you help her?"

"Same thing."

"Oh... So you're..?"

"Questioning my heterosexuality? Yep! Not even ashamed about it."

Harry grins at Draco. "Why not?"

"The guy is fucking hot,"

"And who is this guy?"

People race through Harry's mind as to who it could be. None of the Slytherin guys are hot enough, at least none of the eighth years. Draco despises Ron and has made no secret about how much Neville disgusts him. Dean and Seamus are together and although no one can deny Draco isnt the nicest person ever, he would never have one of them cheat on the other. Draco also never pays attention to the Ravenclaws or Hufflepuffs, but that may help in keeping the secret. 

Draco turns red as a tomato. "I'd rather not tell you. Kinda embarrassed about it,"

Harry leans back in his chair and crosses his arms over his chest. "Alright."

Draco swallows, fixes his hair with slim pale fingers and they begin a normal conversation again. 

^^^^

"Where the hell were you last night?"

Ron is almost breathing down Harry's neck the next day on their way to breakfast, with Hermione simply stood next to the brunette with quiet, simple questions. 

"On a walk. Lost track of time, alright? Already told you. Down at the lake."

"And no body saw you? Not even Hagrid?"

"Hagrid was asleep. So was I."

"Oh, so you were grinning because you slept down at the lake?"

"Ronald, leave him alone! He just fell asleep. We don't need to know any more,"

Ron groans and stops in his track. The two keep walking for a bit before they notice him, then Hermione just tells Harry to continue walking and she'll deal with her 'teaspoon'. 

Bright blonde hair is the only thing Harry sees when he enters the great hall. His heartbeat speeds up and he struggles to hide a smile as grey catches green. 

No one is around, not for another ten minutes or so, so Harry stands right across from Draco, fighting the urge to sit down and become more comfortable. 

"I think I got a bruise when I you threw me to my bed,"

"That sounds extremely sexual," Harry grins down at Draco. 

"Get your mind out of the gutter, you idiot,"

"Sometimes I don't know if you're trying to flirt or actually insulting people." 

"Honestly, I don't know either,"

"No one understands you, not even yourself? That's a whole new level of sad,"

Draco smiles down at his folded arms then looks back up, nodding hurriedly behind Harry. Harry takes the hint (for the first time ever) and makes his way further down the table to sit and wait.


	6. Night Six

That phrase is what brought Draco to his senses. That phrase is what really got his mind going. That phrase is what really made Draco begin to question everything. 

Sometimes I don't know if you're trying to flirt or actually insulting people.

He was brought up in a very... strict household. His father would only talk of the pure blood girls in Slytherin he would have Draco marry. His mother never quite grasped the fact that Draco wasn't six years old anymore. He had no siblings, so when he felt lonely, he just had to deal with it. Sometimes it felt like he raised himself. Hogwarts was no better. 

The professors were, sure, better than his parents, but still weren't a good substitute. He knew that he would ever be able to completely express himself in a place like this, or he'd be put in the Prophet for everyone to see. He had no where to go. He was alone. He was fighting with his own thoughts. He never knew anything but rules and strictness. 

Until he met Harry Potter. 

He finally met someone that could understand him. His problems, his fears, his stories. He could finally tell them to someone. He didn't have to be afraid anymore. Harry was the only person that had enough brain capacity and ability to listen that Draco had met in years. He was beginning to feel like Harry was a therapist, almost. Draco didn't like that thought.

"No, it's fine. I like hearing you talk,"

Draco looks up and behind him to Harry. The brunette is smiling down at him, a welcoming, friendly smile. 

"What?" Draco gawks as Harry sits down so their thighs touch. 

"You talk out loud. To yourself." 

"Really? I never knew that," Draco stares at the side of Harry's head as the other gets lost in the lake. His mind begins to wander back to past years. Like year four. And six. The best yet worst years of his life. "What else have you heard me say?"

"Not much. Once you were going on a rant about pizza. Apparently you like it, and I just thought whether or not you actually have had pizza,"

"Once. I snuck out with Pansy one year during the summer to a muggle pizza place and had it. It was good. I don't understand all the hype about it, though. The cheese just slides off and there's too much sauce. And who puts chunks of tomato on top of it? Insane people, that's who."

Draco stops, leaving Harry laughing quietly and keeping eye contact with the blonde. "You did it again,"

Draco grins, his dimple showing again, and hides his face in his hands. "Don't tell anyone."

"Who would I tell? We agreed to keep this on the down-low, right?"

"Right." Light grey eyes scan the darkness a bit. He takes his bottom lip in between his teeth and chews it for a few seconds as he stares into the forest. "Are we ever going to tell anyone?"

"This is only for a couple weeks, maybe months? My bets are on no. We can't be too sure,"

Butterflies form in Draco's stomach as Harry sends him a reassuring smile. There's an odd feeling Draco has now, the feeling of wanting to say something. He just doesn't know what he wants to say. It's right on the tip of his tongue, like he knows the words but still doesn't. 

They keep eye contact for what feels like eternity, causing Draco to want to punch something. He thought he was past this, he thought he was past Harry making him angry. It's only been six night, too. They're not best friends, not even friends, Draco needs to remind himself. Right on the line between acquaintances and friends, he would consider. But what does Harry think? Acquaintances, friends, close friends?

"Probably closer to friends,"

"Hm?" Draco looks up. "Oh, I was talking out loud again."

"Yes, you were," Harry nods. "Since when have you called me by my first name?"

"I dunno... Outloud, never. In my head, the last few years. Since, I'd say, sixth year. That was a wierd year. Really strange,"

"I was here, I know. I was actually really worried about you that year."

A blush creeps up Draco's neck, the light hairs standing up on end. That was a very nice, comforting thing to hear. The sound of Harry's voice into Draco's ears, telling him that he was worried about him, it brings him some sort of closure. He falls backwards to lay down, strands of blonde hair falling into his eyes. 

"You've lost your eye bags." Harry remarks as he lays down as well. Their shoulders are touching in a strange 'been-friends-for-years' type of way, that Draco isn't sure he loves or doesn't. 

"Really? Have I? I would've thought they've just gotten worse. I'm constantly up all night now, you know,"

"You must get some sleep,"

"A bit. Couple hours, maybe,"

"It's better than nothing." He feels Harry shrug.

They stargaze side-by-side for a few minutes in a comfortable silence. The sound of their breathing and calm 3 am water are the only sounds to be heard. Finally, Draco's brain is calm, with the scent of salty seawater and the faint hint of Harry's shower gel (which smells of cinnamon and apples, by the way), to whisk him away into dream land. But he has to remember, he can't fall asleep. Harry could possibly fall asleep and they would be revealed to the school, possibly even the country, and that's the last thing they want right now. 

"Oh my god!" Harry sits up abruptly, causing Draco to jump. The dark-skinned boy laughs, resting a hand on Draco's stomach, then talks, "do you have a date to the ball yet?"

"You know me, of course not,"

"We should go together!" Harry exclaims, then adds after seeing Draco's confused look, "as friends, of course. If someone asks one of us, we could say we're already going with someone and refuse to tell them! Everyone would be on their toes! Oh, it would be so good!"

Draco stares into the excited green eyes and contemplates for a few seconds. It would be fun, seeing everyone's theories, but they would eventually catch on, right? There's only so many people that could be possiblities, but if people actually found out they could just deny it and say they were wrong. 

"And after much consideration, I, Draco Lucius Malfoy, have agreed to your master plan, Harry James Potter," Draco says in a deep posh voice. 

Harry beams and tackles Draco in a hug, his cheek against the blonde's chest, knocking the air out of him for a second. He can feel Harry grinning and as soon as the hug began, it ends. 

"Just for future reference, I don't like hugs." Draco can't help but to smile at this small act of affection. It was too cute and in-the-moment to not smile. 

"Well, I do like hugs so you'll just have to deal with it."

"Great." Draco's tone has a hint of sarcasm in it. 

^^^^^

"You know, I think I know who I'm gonna ditch him for someone else. I swear to god, Draco, I'm gonna slap you if you don't start paying attention," Pansy groans from her chair in front of the fire. 

"I was paying attention, though! You were saying you wanna ask someone else to the ball and ditch Justin. In all honesty, I'd say go for it, you know?"

"One problem is that she's already probably going with someone and I'm terrified because I've been a bitch to her the entire time we've been at school but I still don't wanna tell you because I'm terrified of what you'll think,"

"First, that doesn't narrow it down to too many people and second, you don't have to tell me. If you don't want to, you don't have to. Your feelings and opinions are valid,"

Pansy's mouth moves as if she's going to say something more, but no sounds come out. Just high-pitched squeaks. Her maroon lipstick smudges onto her finger as she stares at Draco in awe whilst he keeps focussed on his muggle book. 

"Who are you anymore?"

"I've just learned what a difference listening to someone can do for them,"

"How?"

Draco's heartbeat quickens as he panics for an excuse. "My book,"

"Oh..." Pansy leans back in her chair. "We'd better get ready for breakfast,"

Draco agrees with a closing of his book and follows her out the disappearing door. The walls are exceptionally cold today, causing both their teeth to chatter as they attempt a conversation, Pansy still too shocked at Draco. The entire schools has a strong smell of pancakes and maple syrup. 

The eighth year table is almost full of people laughing and talking, something the two Slytherin's don't want to do with other people their age. 

Pansy leads the way to the Slytherin table between two third years.

"Woah! You're- you're Draco Malfoy!" One of the third years exclaim. 

"Yeah... We share a common room... Why are you so excited?"

"You've never talked to me, this is wierd!" The third year leans in and says in a hushed tone, "is it true?"

"Huh?"

"Are you actually gay?"

Draco sits up straight and looks the third year in the eyes. He blinks a few times whilst the third year just sits there, looking expectant. 

"No, where the hell would you get an idea like that?"

"You just seem like it. You even look gay!"

"How can someone look like a sexuality? That's absolutely impossible." And from his other side, he can feel Pansy get up and leave in a hurry. He gives the third year one last look of disappointment, shakes his head, and follows her to the eighth year table. 

"Can't believe that." Pansy sits down next to Granger, who is unaware of either of the Slytherins.

"What did the kid say?"

"He asked if you were gay."

"How fucking amazing," Draco says sarcastically, leaning his head in his hands. 

At his profanity, Harry turns his head and shoots him a discreet smile. Draco turns red and hides his face completely.


	7. Night Seven

Harry's always loved Quidditch. He found it exciting and exhilarating whilst still stressful and terrifying at the same time. As he sat in the stands amongst hundreds of other scarf-clad Gryffindors in the cold watching as wind whipped the faces of Slytherin's and Ravenclaws, zooming around like tiny flies in the air. He shivers but instantly warms up at the sight of one Slytherin score a goal. 

Some people cheer enthusiastically and others cheer because 'House Unity yay!' Harry raises his fist in the air and cheers. 

"Ten points to Slytherin! Good job, guys!" A Hufflepuff calls into the microphone. 

"Harry, why are you cheering? It's Slytherin." Ron asks. 

"House unity, Ron. You're dating Hermione, you should know that,"

He hopes Ron can't see that Harry just wants to say 'because Draco Lucius Malfoy is in Slytherin.'

That night at dinner, when Harry is entering and Draco exiting, he whispers, "on the Quidditch pitch tonight,"

^^^^^

To Harry's pleasant surprise, Draco is already on the pitch waiting. He's laying on his back, eyes closed and hands behind his head. The setting sun casts long shadows over the pitch, half of Draco's face obscured by the shadow. A broom is thrown lazily near his legs and the grass is sticking up around his body. Harry makes his way over to the peaceful blonde and sits down next to him, staring down at the calmness of his face and resisting the urge to push a few strands of stray hair away from his eyes. 

"I know you're there," Draco mutters after a few minutes with a smirk. He opens one eye ever so slightly and looks at Harry. 

Harry initially jumps at the exit of silence but relaxes under the gaze of the Slytherin. A weird feeling is brewing in the pit of Harry's stomach, a feeling he's never had before. He's not sure whether he likes it or not, but all he knows is that Draco caused it. The mid-December breeze is cold on Harry, and it also must be on Draco as he sees a slight shiver run down his body. 

"Are you going to say anything or just sit there looking at me like a creep?" Draco mutters once more, almost his entire face obscured by shadow now. 

"I have a place I wanna show you," Harry stands up quickly before Draco has any time to react. He holds his hand out for the other to take. 

Draco scoffs and swats it away. "I don't need your help, Potter,"

"What happened to calling me Harry?"

Draco turns possibly even redder, the combination of cold air and blushing making him look like Harry's first Weasley jumper. He attempts standing up by himself, but falls over, getting mud all over his bum. Harry mentally laughs at this, Draco turning somehow even redder. 

"That was funny,"

"Shut up, you arse." Draco stands right across from Harry, looking at him expectantly. "Where are we going?"

"What has gotten in to you lately?" Harry picks his own broom off the ground and mounts it. "Just follow me, alright?"

Draco is obviously hesitant to follow, but does anyway and stands next to Harry. 

"It's really early tonight,"

"What, nine? It's only, like, 3 hours ahead of when we would usually meet. Not extremely early," Harry replies and kicks off the ground only seconds later, taking Draco off guard. Harry looks behind him at Draco and laughs at the blonde almost falling off. "You alright back there!?" 

Draco's head snaps up to look at the other and obviously tries to hide a smile or maybe even a laugh. Harry stops in mid air and waits for Draco to catch up, which takes probably too long seeing as he played seeker on the Slytherin team for almost six years. Harry watches as Draco struggles to keep his balance for somewhere around five minutes, then finally deciding to fly down and attempt to help. 

"You're so funny when you do that, you know," Harry says with a hand on the other's back. Draco stiffens and shakes the offered help off, gaining his balance like it was never lost in the first place.

"Where are you taking me?" Draco asks, spitting venom for words. 

Harry knits his eyebrows together at Draco's impoliteness tonight. "You're being a bit of a bitch today, I'm not sure I really wanna take you."

Draco squares his shoulders, takes an audible deep breath, and drops his shoulders, worrying Harry. Ideas of what could be wrong race through Harry's mind s he rushes to Draco's side, ignoring the annoying black fringe in his eyes. 

"What's wrong?" Harry asks, genuinely curious and fearful. "You know- you know you can talk to me,"

"I'm so done. I fucking want out. It's too much." Draco replies, voice shaky.

"Tell me what's wrong, please."

Draco's shoulders somehow sag more as a few tears escape his grey eyes. Harry lowers his head to attempt to connect green to grey, but fails as he only sees Draco's eyes screwed shut. The sight makes Harry want to cry. Slytherin's are supposedly good a hiding their emotions, or that's what he's been told and, by Draco, shown. Until now. He didn't know Draco was capable of crying, it sounds silly, but it's true. 

"Please, tell me." 

Draco sniffs and looks up, squaring his shoulders again. His eyes are open now, but ignoring Harry's, instead examining the light purple sky and Quidditch pitch. His eyes have something strange in them, like contemplation or confusion. Harry takes a deep breath as Draco looks over to him. 

"Tell me whats wrong, please."

"Everything." Draco's face scrunches up from holding back tears. "Absolutely fucking everything."

Harry reaches out a tentative hand for Draco. Draco makes eye contact once more, sadness and confusion is all Harry can put on the look in Draco's eyes. The blonde gulps and closes his eyes, slouches his shoulders, and falls. He leans away from Harry and let's himself fall. Harry sits transfixed on his broom as he watches Draco fall, unable to do anything through the petrification. He finally comes to his senses.

"NO!"

But he's too late.

^^^^^

The next morning is strange. He didn't return back to the Gryffindor tower with the same sense of bounciness or relief or happiness he would usually have this last week. He didn't fall asleep for the next few hours until Hermione inevitably forced Ron and himself out of bed for breakfast. He didn't return Draco back to the dungeons with the help of his cloak.

The next morning is strange. He returned back to Gryffindor tower shaking and sweating and tear stains running down his cheeks. He laid there for the last few hours before Hermione inevitably forced Ron and himself out of bed for breakfast just staring at the ceiling, letting invisible tears run down his face and silent sobs escape his lips, replaying the moment it happened. He brought Draco to the hospital wing with blood stains all over his shirt and trousers that everyone will question in the morning.

The eighth year table isn't the same without that fluffy blonde hair to look over to whenever he felt like it, instead greeted with a sobbing Pansy next to an empty seat. 

"If everyone would please direct their attention up here!" McGonnagall calls from the front of the great hall. The room eventually falls silent as everyone looks up into the old face of the Head Mistress. "I would like to inform you that last night somewhere around 10 pm, our student Draco Malfoy was brought to the hospital wing due to falling from great heights. He arrived unconscious and the person that brought him would like to remain anonymous." McGonnagall's eyes scan over the Hall.

A couple people look around, looking for any signs as to who it could be. Harry does his best not to give it away by copying a couple third year Slytherin's and looking around the Hall.

"He is fully conscious at the present moment but still healing. Madam Pomfrey has informed us that he should be completely healed by dinner tonight, so Parkinson, calm down, it will be alright," -McGonnagall's always had a talent for telling people to shut the fuck up in the nicest way possible- "But please, go about your day as you usually would. I don't expect that to be too hard for you, Potter."

Harry makes eye contact with McGonnagall and she smiles reaussuringly at him. He suspects she knows he was the one that 'saved' Draco, Madam Pomfrey probably told her.

McGonnagall grants permission to continue eating breakfast and everyone follows the orders. Ron and Hermione are bickering about something across the table, so they don't notice when Harry excuses himself from them and takes the empty seat next to Pansy.

"Hey, are you alright?" Harry asks, resting an elbow on the table.

He evidently takes Pansy off guard as she jumps and glares at him. "What do you want?"

"To be a nice and caring person," Harry attempts a joke but fails. "Look, Parkinson, I know how close you two are. You're really worried, I know. I can tell. But he'll be alright. He's not dead, okay? Imagine that, everyone you know dying before you're even twenty. I wouldn't know what that's like,"

This time, Pansy smiles and doesn't even try to hide it. Her dark brown eyes lock with Harry's own green and she sends a short and appreciative smile.

"Thanks." Pansy sneaks a glance to the bickering couple a few metres away, "you should get back to your parents now."

Harry nods once and stands, stopped by a sudden hand on his forearm. He looks down and sees Pansy smiling at him once again.

"I really mean it." She looks around and lets go of Harry's arm. "Thanks."

He walks away with a satisfied smile on his face. At least he had a heart-to-heart with a Slytherin today. Even if it was only for a minute.


	8. Night Eight

The bed is soft and all too familiar. He counts all the times he's been in these beds, whichever one it be. He lifts his head to look at the door as it opens, excitement for it to be Harry or Pansy or even his mother bubbling in his stomach, only to be let down as Madam Pomfrey enters. Pomfrey passes his bed in a hurry and disappears behind the door of her office, leaving a quiet echoing slam behind her.

This place is too silent. It leaves Draco uncomfortable. Sure, he's used to quiet in the dormitories or the Manor, but at least there's that little bit of chatter from other students. The clatter of pots from the kitchen under his bedroom. The breathing of the family cat occasionally in his room. Pansy whispering about something random. That's quiet. 

This is silent. 

Theres no sound except the breathing of himself. It's agonising. It's a sound he once loved, a sound he once longed for. That was when he was lost. He was gone. His mind was like an ocean, for example. A storm going on 24/7 with no signs of stopping. No matter how hard he tried, the storm would just get worse with every year stacked on his shoulders. The moment he hit the ground was the most satisfying moment in his life. That was the moment he knew the storm was going to stop, the headaches were gone, the clammy palms were like an old friend. The water would calm and the sun would shine.

That few hours of hope were the best hours of Draco's life. Those few hours he didn't have any worries, he was gone. He was unconscious. He was dying. He wishes he could get a time turner and prevent himself from waking up again. That thought revs the storm again, a threatening clash of thunder booming through his ears. The sound reminds him that there's no easy way out. The storm will keep going on and on forever, until it stops. (yeah no shit Sherlock)

Draco screws his eyes shut and lays his head on the pillow, thinking of any spell he can to cast on the pillow to swallow him whole. 

"Draco!" 

His head shoots up to look toward the door, where Pansy is quietly walking to him, obviously anxious to talk to him. 

"Hey, Pans." 

Pansy sits in the chair next to his bed. 

"What happened? What the hell did you do?"

"I got tired of life,"

"Bitch you have got to make up a better excuse than that. Maybe... too stressed... or it was an accident. The Draco I know would never try to kill himself,"

Draco groans. "You don't know what's been going on in my spare time,"

"You're an eighteen year old boy, I'm pretty sure I have a good idea."

He raises his eyebrows at her. She doesn't awknowledge it in the slightest. 

"Anyway," she continues, looking at the clock on the wall. "Potter talked to me this morning. He comforted me. What the hell has gotten into him? You two haven't even fought for, like, a week!"

Draco hides his smile best he can at the sound of his kind-of-but-not-really-date-and-also-kind-of-best-friend comforting his all-time best friend. "Maybe he's putting all the past years behind us. Treating us like human beings," Draco tries to subtly suggest, "We're technically adults now, even in the muggle world. Mature up, you know,"

"It's just strange. He could've ignored me and continued eating, but he actually came over, by himself, and comforted me. He even attempted making a joke!"

Draco doesn't try to hide his smirk this time. He looks down at his lap and grins at Pansy's confusion and Harry's overwhelming need to be kind to everyone he meets. 

"What're you smiling at?"

"I honestly don't know. No clue. Zero idea." Draco runs a hand over his face to wipe off the smile. Pansy stares at him suspiciously, raising one eyebrow. 

"I feel like you do know,"

"I can truthfully say I don't." Draco raises his arms. "Did you ask the girl out yet?"

"Not yet. Its only been two days, though. I still have time,"

"Nine days until the Ball. Better hurry up,"

"Oh, as if you have a date,"

"As a matter of fact, I do,"

Pansy beams and almost jumps out of her chair, hands resting on the side of his bed. "Who is it? Tell me! Why didn't you tell me? How long have you known her? What's her name? Why didn't you tell me this sooner?"

"I'm not going to tell you who he is or anything like that, and we only agreed to go together two days ago,"

"OH MY GOD!" Pansy shrieks, Draco's head pounding harder now. "It's a he!? Oh my god, were those third years right? Are you actually gay?"

"We're going as friends. Neither or us had a date or anyone that would want to go with the other, so we talked and are going together,"

"AWW! Is he your boyfriend? Oh my god, that would be so cute! If you two ended up getting married, would I be able to be your... bridesmaid? What's it called? The female best man, you know?"

"He is not my boyfriend, I am not his boyfriend. Never have, never will. It's not going to happen,"

"So you're not going to tell me who he is. I will never tell you who the girl is." Pansy slumps back in her chair and crosses her arms. "Ooh, if I ever end up asking her out, we could all go together. Surprise everyone! Everyone is gay!"

"I actually like that idea, surprisingly,"

The door to Madam Pomfrey's office snaps open and the nurse shushes them loudly. "Quiet down please. Miss Parkinson, I would consider going on your way down to your next class."

"Of course." Pansy stands and leaves the hospital wing with no further words, head down and feet tapping quietly. Both doors shut at the same time, leaving Draco alone with his thoughts once more. 

How could he have let that slip? It's not really a hard thing to hide, he could've easily used gender neutral pronouns, instead of he. He kept his thoughts in for almost eighteen years, how could he almost 'out' himself without even thinking? How could he almost 'out' himself and Harry? Maybe this wasn't such a good idea in the first place. No, he promised. Harry hugged him. 

The world begins spinning again as the storm begins again, this time in the form of a pounding headache. He screws his eyes shut in an attempt to soften it a bit, even the smallest bit. It obviously doesn't work, because nothing goes well for the main character in fanfictions fight me. Shoving his head further into the fluffy pillow, he can feel himself slowly drifting off to sleep. 

Darkness swallows him whole as his headache begins weakening with every moment he gets closer to sleep, replaced by the torturous yelling and screaming of people killing and being killed. How does this happen even when only falling asleep, not as a nightmare when he's asleep and can almost force himself awake. 

He opens his eyes, the screams stopping as soon as they started. Something to distract himself, that's what he needs. He could try to get in contact with Harry, but he's in class. Pansy's also in class. He broke his foot, so he can't walk anywhere. They confiscated his wand. 

Draco groans and turns his head to the left, to be greeted with a piece of parchment and one of those wierd muggle plastic ink tubes that Harry mentioned once (bc let's be honest pens are more affective). A muggle born probably brought it them here and forgot them. He contemplates not being an asshole and leaving them without touching, but that idea is quickly wiped away and he picks them up. 

What could he write about? It could be his journal for now then throw it in the rubbish. People could find it and read of himself spilling his heart, recognizing the writing. Harry! He could write Harry. 

But what about? 

He knows. 

 

hello, harry. 

I'm alright, don'T worry. Hooch is probably pissed, with the destruction of one of her brooms. tell her I'm sorry about that, or at least have pansy do so

He stops writing to press the back of the pen to his chin. Yeah, this'll work. Hopefully. 

Never mind that, i'd just like to say i'm sorry. really, truly, 100 percent sorry. i don't Know what It must've felt like to go through... that. 

the bones are Mending well, but slowly. extremely slowly.

Will this go well? There's really no telling. It's almost the end of classes, as well. Pansy will be to visit again in possibly only a few minutes. He'll need to finish this and hide it in a short span of time. 

Three more letters. How will he fit them in? They're not very common letters, if you think about it. He presses his fingers to his temples and rubs, thinking of something else to write. 

tell Granger and weasley to chill the fuck out with their heterosexuality. (everyone gets it, they're dating)

Again,

Yours truly,

d.m.

He looks at it over and notices how extremely fancy his writing is to be writing the word 'fuck'. 

^^^^^

He looks at the floor, the mix of moonlight and dark water casting long strips of light over the concrete. It's silent and cold. The dungeons. Draco never quite liked the idea of having the Slytherin dormitories in the dungeons, but he can admit it's very edgy and aesthetically pleasing, which he can really get behind. He's learned to like the dungeons, too. In a strange childhood kind of liking. He's also learned to pile up on blankets and pillows. 

The window letting light in from under the lake is calming. The lake. What did Harry do tonight? Did he ditch the idea and instead stay in the Gryffindor tower, or go to the lake to chill out and be alone, or just fall asleep and wait until tomorrow night. It's probably the latter, it's what Draco would do. But Draco also wouldn't choose to initiate a friendship with a Weasley. Malfoy's and Weasely's don't-

"Draco? Draco, you in here?"

He turns his head to the door, which is open slightly and Harry's head is poking through ever-so-slightly. Grey meets green and Draco nods. Harry opens the door as quietly as possible and closes it. 

"You alright?" The brunette takes it upon himself to sit on Draco's bed. 

"Somewhat. Still getting occasional headaches and when I fall asleep I hear... you know," 

"Ah... that sounds like torture. I'm surprised that you're able to do it,"

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Draco smiles. A genuine smile, the dimples that he only recently discovered showing slightly. 

"Live. I can't see inside your head, but I now understand why you decided to do that. But let's not talk about it." Harry moves back so he's laying next to Draco comfortably. "I really like your dimples, you know. It's strange,"

"Why? It's not really uncommon,"

"Because I know I made you smile when I see them." Draco hopes Harry can't see the blush and the dimples show deeply. "Like right then,"

"Oh, come off it," Draco mocks an angry tone that Pansy would do when she's- "you're actually the worst, did you know that?"

"I saved the wizarding world, I'm not the worst,"

"Definitely up there, though. Not as bad as my dad,"

"True." 

Harry lifts his arm and rests his elbow behind Draco's head, fingers tangling in the blonde mess. 

"Your hair is really soft." Harry takes strands between his fingers and lets them drop, massaging Draco's skull soon after.

"I'm not surprised, I use expensive shampoo," 

"Rich people confuse me. Why don't you just use normal shampoo like all the rest of us?"

"Because we have the money to spend on it,"

"Why not just spend it on something else... like a pet ferret?"

"That was four years ago, are you really still bringing that up?"

"Yes I am. What are you gonna do about it?"

"Make you shut up,"

They lock eyes again, Harry's fingers still playing with Draco's hair. 

"And how are you gonna do that?"

"I dunno. A spell," Draco suggests. Harry shrugs in agreement 

"You can't do nonverbal and your wand is across the room." 

"Oh, fuck you,"

Harry rests the side of their heads together and laughs, yet still massaging Draco's scalp. Draco relaxes back and closes his eyes. 

"You're gonna make me fall asleep. You're already half asleep," Draco remarks through closed eyes, feeling Harry lift his head. 

"I'd better go, then?"

"Probably." Draco waits a few moments for Harry to get up from the bed to reach down and get the parchement and gives it to the brunette. "Wait until you're alone to read this."

"Will do. Bye,"

"Bye,"

And with that, Harry leaves the room, more words stuck in Draco's throat, wanting to talk to Harry more but not wanting to get caught by Pansy. Harry is actually going to read that. 

He falls asleep not to the sound of screaming and killing, but to the quiet sounds of the lake.


	9. Night Nine

Draco hair truly was soft. Harry always expected it to be strangely greasy and sticky with the reported amounts of product he puts in it, but it was definitely a pleasant surprise. The strands just slipped through his fingers and fell in front of Draco's face, possibly one of the most attractive things Harry has seen his entire life. But he's not gay. He's straight. He likes girls. Not boys. And definitely not Draco. He and Draco are friends and only friends. 

But Dracos dimples as well! Harry just wants to poke them. They look so cute and child-like. Draco is still basically a child. He has such a baby face. And with the bright blonde hair, he looks like a little child. But they're both eighteen. Not eleven again. How nice it would be to be eleven again. Sure, his eleventh year of life wasn't 'normal' per sé, but it definitely wasn't as stressful. Harry shakes his head and slowly stops as he opens the letter from Draco. 

It has to be something special and important, or else Draco would just tell him face-to-face, or not explicitly say to open it alone. Harry's head becomes a flurry of things it could be, some probably appropriate for his age. But he's not gay!

His green eyes scan the first few lines and once again notices the strange use of capitalisation. Rolling the paper up and holding it tightly beside his wand, he begins the trek back up to Gryffindor tower, as fast as his legs can carry him. 

By the time he's back to the common room, Hermione is once again, like every night recently, sat in her favourite chair, scribbling away, completely lost to notice the portrait hole opening up. He slowly walks past her, heart beating fast, and up to the boys dormitory. 

Rons snoring fills the small room as always. It makes it easier to get situated on his bed with the contains drawn and ready to read the letter. 

He reads it once over for a proofread, then begins noting down the letters. 

I. 

Good start there, Draco. 

T. H. I. 

If he writes something in appropriate Harry swears he will hex him. 

N. K. 

"I think?" Harry mutters. "Yeah no shit. You're always right behind 'Mione in grades,"

I. M. 

"I think I'm..." This is the strangest letter ever. 

G. 

If this is where Harry thinks it's going. 

A. 

It is. 

Y. 

Millions of thoughts crowd Harry's mind. Was it because of him? When did Draco begin thinking it? Has he ever thought about Harry in that way? Oh god. Harry wants to continue being friends, but will Draco try- Harry's not gay! He's not gay! Never have, never will. He likes girls. Girls and Quidditch. What made Draco think he's gay? 

Harry leans his head in the palms of his hands. He closes his eyes and considers his options. He could potentionally out this friendship with Draco by talking to Hermione. He could also send Draco a message back. He could also ignore it all together. 

Theres absolutely nothing wrong with it either. But- what if Draco- you know? Tried to..? No, Harry wouldn't let that happen. He's not gay. He's straight. He likes girls and only girls. 

He chooses the first option and quietly tiptoes out of bed, making sure not to leave any trace of the letter if Ron were to wake up. The floor is cold under his feet and can feel them sweating under the stress. 

Hermione doesn't look up when Harry sits down in the sofa next to her, instead just mutters something under her breath. 

"Hermione..." He whispers. 

"Yeah?" She doesn't look up from the paper, instead just dips her quill in ink and continues writing. 

"Can you stop that for a second?"

She, without a word, places all her equipment on the table and looks at Harry as if she's his counsellor and he's a quiet kid that won't open up. 

"Can i tell you something?"

"Of course. I've known you for, what, seven years now? Fire away,"

"You're strange at this time of night..." They lock eyes and she urges him forward with the brown circles of intimidation. "Don't tell anyone. Please."

"You got it, dude,"

After getting a quizzical look from Harry, she's simple states, "muggle television reference,"

"Ah, okay. So, I've been talking to this person for, I dunno, a week now. They're actually really nice and I want to keep being friends with them, but... they just told me that they think they're gay,"

"And?"

"They're a boy. I'm a boy. Do you think he'll try to... you know... do it."

"I know you're absolutely oblivious to anything and everything, but are you actually kidding me? That doesn't happen. Gay people don't want to have sex with every same-sex person in a one kilometre radius. My uncle is gay, he's been looking for a boyfriend since he came out, when I was three. They're always the same person you knew before, just you know a bit more about them,"

"But-"

"No buts. You aren't going to look at him any different, treat him any different, talk to him different. And if you come running back to me again with more homophobic shite like that, i promise on my life I will hex your balls off right there and then. Now go upstairs and get to sleep,"

Hermione swore. Wow. 

"Will do,"

You can really tell McGonnagal is her favourite teacher. 

^^^^^

Hermione and Ron are bickering. Harry and Draco are stealing glances and swapping friendly smiles every now and then. Pansy is ranting to Draco about everything or nothing at all. What else is new. 

"Can you guys, y'know, chill out a bit?" Harry speaks up over the loud clatter of students talking and silverware clinking. 

"And what exactly do you mean?" Hermione gives Harry a look close to the one he has seen Pansy give Draco. 

"You guys are constantly quibbling over something. It's annoying. Irritating. I never say anything anymore,"

As Hermione closes her eyes and shakes her head, Harry shrugs. 

"Just... tone it down a bit. Everyone knows you're dating." Harry looks back down at his plate. A loud sigh can be heard from across the table, soon followed by the creaking of a chair being pushed back and stomping leaving the Great Hall. 

Harry looks up to see Ron staring at Hermiones empty chair. 

"Thanks, mate. Means a lot,"

"She might just be..." Ron storms off before Harry finishes, but still continues quietly with, "tired,"

The entire eighth year table is silent now. The entire Hufflepuff section has left to find Hermione, along with the Ravenclaw girls and a couple of the boys. Only six people are left at the table. 

Harry. 

Three Ravenclaw boys. 

Pansy. 

Draco. 

"You spoke your mind," Draco shrugs with a small smile. 

"That's a positive, definitely." Harry replies. 

He notices Pansy's confusion of their comfortable banter, her eyes darting between the two. 

"At least we're talking and not hexing," Harry says with a hint of joking in if then leaves the ginormous room. 

^^^^^

"So... both you and Pansy are questioning,"

"Yep. I haven't talked to her about anything yet. It's funny, were polar opposites yet best friends,"

"I feel like that's what's good in friend ships. Strong where you're weak and weak where you're strong, if that makes any sense,"

"Oh, it does,"

"Good," Harry nods, connecting eyelines with Draco. "You would look really good in eyeliner,"

"Excuse me? Is that supposed to be a gay stereotype joke?" Harry's heart begins racing before Draco adds a comforting smile. 

"No, not at all. I'm just mentioning that- that you would pull off eyeliner really well. It's just a comment that you should take in to consideration and maybe ask Pansy about it and it wasn't at all a stereotype joke I'm just saying that-- sorry,"

Draco begins laughing, slowly at first but getting louder and more pronounced by the second. "I will take it in to consideration,"

Harry hides his face in his knees to hide the blush. 

"I'll ask Pansy later,"

"Okay,"

The two boys lock eyes, only about a foot of room between them. Draco sighs audibly out his nose, letting a small cloud of cold air. He leans toward Harry and sets his shoulder on the brunette's shoulder. His white blonde hair tickles Harry's neck.

"I'm cold," Draco whines. 

"So am I. It's not that uncommon during winter," Harry teases, letting his fingers run through Draco's hair. 

"For the amount of time you just told me you're not gay, you really act like it." Draco shifts his head. "You're probably at least a little bit gay. The tiniest bit."

"Everyone is. At least that's what I heard Hermione say. Everyone is a small bit gay. Doesn't matter ethnicity, gender, sexuality, everyone is gay,"

"Wise woman, she is,"

"Since when have you complimented Hermione? Last I heard you were calling her names,"

Draco turns his head to rest his forehead on Harry's shoulder and let's out a small laugh. 

"I may be an idiot but I'm not so idiotic that I think she's a blockhead." Grey meets Green once again, this time closer than ever. "Your eyes are really green. They almost look radioactive,"

"Thanks?"

"You're welcome," Draco whispers, smiling smally. 

^^^^^

Harry wakes naturally this morning, not to Hermione entering the boys dormitory, screaming at he and Ron to wake up. The sun is shining through the crack in his curtains. He closes his eyes once more, hoping for Hermione to come bounding into the room and rip open the coverings, blinding him with sunlight. 

Wait. 

The sun shouldn't be out this early. It's the middle of December. 

Harry wakes right up at the realization and doesn't even notice how Rons bed it perfectly made, as if no one slept in it last night. Harry specifically remembers seeing ginger hair poking out from under the blanket on his way down to the dungeons. Throwing on a Weasley jumper and a pair of black skinny jeans he bought from a muggle shop last summer, he races down the stairs and out the portrait hole. 

He missed breakfast, he knows it. Confirmed. Which class does he have first? Right, potions. 

The trek (fucking race) down to the classroom is too long, so when he finally skids to a stop in the cold room, hes out of breath. 

"I was wondering where you were, Harry!" He can almost hear the stomach. "Five points for being late and five more for out of uniform!"

"Five? I thought- it would be- more?"

"It's Friday. Let you off easy day, as I like to call it!" Slughorn finishes with a small chuckle then waves Harry off to a table. 

"Harry James Potter where in the world were you!?" Hermione whispers once he sits down next to her. 

"I could ask you the same question,"

And with that, she straightens up and refocuses to the front of the class, where Slughorn is talking about something that Harry doesn't quite catch. He's staring at the back of Draco's head. 

That hair. That fucking hair. It's so soft and bright and smooth and fluffy and put-together and- ugh!

"Come on! We need to work!"

"Right... what're we doing?"

"He's going to assign us potions then we have to make it and another pair will identify it,"

Of course, the inevitable happens, and Harry sits back as Hermione happily creates the potion. Her hair slowly gets frizzier and frizzier with every passing minute, and with the added bonus of people creating sleeping draughts and energy potions, Harry is constantly on the verge of sleep whilst not ever quite there. Clinking of spoons on cauldrons and opening of cupboards and splashing of water fills the cold room. Maybe he should wear these jumpers more. 

And from across the room, he catches Draco's eye. Both send discreet smiles and Draco mouths a couple words that Harry can't make out. It probably wasn't important, anyway. Possibly just telling him the potion he and Pansy are making, potions has always been Draco's strong suit. 

"Oh, that's easy," Hermione mutters. 

Harry looks back at her. "What's easy?"

"The potion is obviously a Draught of Peace," Hermione mutters, a bit louder this time. "It's too easy! Give me something harder," (lol)

Harry stifles back a laugh at her innuendo before saying, "isn't that one of the hardest potions to make?"

And before she can reply, Slughorn calls stop and tells the class to go to a different work table to try and identify the potion. 

People are already at new work tables before Harry is even stood up, Harry hustling toward Draco and Pansy's table when Hermione doesn't move, not any reason in particular, no siree, none at all. 

Hermione steps forward first and examines the potion, looking at it, touching it with her finger, smelling it. 

"Amortentia." She nods confidently. 

"How do you know,"

"Smell it. If it smells different to you than it does to me, it's Amortentia."

Harry steps forward and, extremely awkwardly, leans down to smell it. 

"So?"

"Beachwood, peppermint, and a bit of metal. Like iron and copper,"

"Yep, it's Amortentia,"


	10. Night Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (please note that I'm writing most of this story as if it's more modern. I wasn't born in the 90s so I don't know what any of it was like and I would rather stick to writing in a time period I know)

The stars are twinkling. The moon is shining. He water is rippling. The forest is wrustling in the light breeze. His arm still fucking hurts and it doesn't help whatsoever that the 'Chosen One' is laying on it. 

Their relationship is wierd. Draco kind of just came out, he doesn't know how Harry feels about it, they've established that they're only friends and will only ever be, yet they act like best friends that have known each other for years, and sometimes like they're dating. They're just friends. That's it. Friends. The only thing they'll see eachother as. Nothing else. Not at all. And Draco loves that. So much.

"What are you wearing for the ball?" Draco speaks up, looking at Harry. 

Their faces are close. So close. Draco can feel Harry's breath. Warm and minty; something Draco can definitely get used to. No! They're just friends!

"Do you want me to answer honestly?" Draco nods. "No clue. The suit I wore in fourth year is obviously too small now and that's the only thing I have,"

"Have you asked Mother Weasley if she has any tuxes?"

"Did you see what Ron wore in fourth? No chance,"

"You could charm the one you wore in fourth so it's your size now?"

"I appreciate the suggestion, but I can only wear the same article of clothing so many times,"

"Fair enough,"

Harry sits up and rests his hands on Draco's stomach, looking out at the lake. He blinks a few times, saying nothing, which concerns Draco more than it should. It's just being quiet and blinking, Draco does that all the time! It's normal! Maybe Draco's just being paranoid. Yeah... that's it. 

"What do you think people will say when we walk in?"

"'Oh wow! That guy looks amazing!'" Harry grins as Draco talks. "'The brunette guy next to him is alright,'"

"Oh, screw you,"

"Not Slytherin enough to say the fuck word?"

Draco finds himself in a sitting position right next to Harry. Harry gives him a look. 

"Not 'Slytherin' enough? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Ah... we all use a strange language involving the houses. Slytherin is 'edgy and dark and rebellious', Gryffindor is 'stupid and chaotic good', Hufflepuff is 'nice and stoned and hungry', and or course Ravenclaw is 'smart and aesthetic," Draco picks at the grass. "It works,"

"You see us as stupid?"

"In the sense that you don't think fuck all through."

"Makes sense,"

^^^^^

Pansy somehow still has stuff to talk about. How? They've known each other for over ten years and talked about anything you can imagine, yet they're constantly finding new things to talk about. 

"So last summer I was dragged to muggle London by a cousin and he showed me some muggle music and it was actually really good! It was weird... it was stuck in my head for days until he visited again and we listened to it. It was in private, obviously. Mum and dad would kill me if they saw me actually enjoying something muggle,"

"What did he say it was by? I've heard some being hummed by- someone,"

"Really? Oh, I don't know. It was definitely a female. And it was kind of sexual. I'll ask him next time I send him an owl. But it was really good!"

"Alright, thanks."

With that, they enter the Great Hall, greeted by whispers and stares from the entire eighth year table and some seventh year Slytherins. The two give each other looks that read 'The Fuck is Wrong with Them?', taking a seats across from one another and Draco letting Pansy ask a Hufflepuff next to her to elaborate. The Hufflepuff just grins and turns back to their friends, all of whom are grinning and whispering. 

"Tell me why people are staring at us, would you?" Pansy tempts once more.

"I don't quite think you'd like it if we told you," one of the Hufflepuff's friends replies.

"We'd rather know and not like it than not know and be clueless," Draco says, catching the four Hufflepuffs off guard at his words. 

The four turn to each other and whisper, leaving Draco and Pansy in the dark for a few seconds, before they all turn back and stare Draco in the eye. 

"We'll tell you, only because you're hot," the third in the line of Hufflepuffs say, blushing profusely.

A snorting kind of laugh can be heard distinctly from Draco's far left. 

"A Ravenclaw overheard something yesterday during potions about what Harry Potter smelled in the Amortentia someone made. He told the entire school, obviously, and a Slytherin told us that exact smell is what it's like in the dungeons," one of them begins. 

"So, naturally, every one in eighth year and a couple in seventh are theorizing about which Slytherin it is. I have a few theories, but all of them are probably wrong. I'm wrong most of the time," another continues for their friend.

"Shut up, Isla," the third one mutters, "Its probably right. It's kind of obvious if you really think about it, you know. Not that hard."

All four Hufflepuffs fall silent, both Pansy and Draco with multiple questions nagging at each of their toungues. 

"Who... who do people think it is?" Draco mutters.

"You, you idiot! Isn't that obvious?"

"Actually," the first Hufflepuff cringes at their sudden word, "people have narrowed it down to either of you. Isla and I think it's Pansy. Davi and Rachael think it's Draco,"

The one called Isla smirks. "We have a bet going on. 20 quid to each of the winners,"

"Wow... thanks for informing us,"

A couple of them nod while the other two say 'you're welcome' in akowledgement to Pansy's thanks. 

"We could really have fun with this, you know. Get closer to the guy and both of us pretend to be in love with him,"

"Wouldn't it be weird if we did that? I mean, I'm a guy and he's a guy and neither of us are gay,"

"Draco," Pansy gives him a look only his mum has given before, "you're the gayest person I know. I've never seen you look at a girl the same way you look at blokes."

"Well then..."

"Are you in?"

"Oh, definitely."

"This will be great fun."

^^^^^

Draco is shivering more than usual now, cursing at himself for not bringing any sweater nor blanket, but instead just wearing his usual pajamas. They're thin and cold, "Just how the Malfoys like it," Lucius and his mum would say. Sure, they like freezing their asses off because they're old but Draco's eighteen! He needs to preserve this beauty for god's sake! You never know who will come along. 

Theyre using Harry invisibility cloak as a blanket now, which kind of helps, but the fact that it's so small and doesn't wrap around both of them doesn't help in the slightest. Harry has his arm around Draco, sharing the bit of body heat he has. 

"And then Hermione said that I needed to calm down and then I told her that that was impossible because Ron's kind of just-" Harry makes a popping sound and does an action with his hand to go along with it- "disappeared,"

"What is with me and becoming friends with people who don't shut up,"

"Aww you consider me your friend!"

"Yeah..." Draco is blushing redder than Weasley's hair right now, but thank god it's so dark. "Obviously,"

"That makes me very happy." Harry grins and engulfs Draco in a warm hug, burying his face into the blonde's shoulder. Draco can feel the other grinning. 

"You didn't know i considered you a friend until now?" Harry shakes his head. "You are so extremely oblivious,"

"You don't think Hermione already tells me that every week?"

"Is there anything that Granger doesn't tell you?"

Harry shakes his head again, letting out a warm breath on Draco's neck. The blonde sighs at the surge of warmth, closing his eyes contently, both boys falling quiet in their private sharing of warmth.

With every breath Harry let's out, the warmer Draco gets, sighing quietly each time. His cheeks are warm and his neck is tickling due to the messy black hair brushing against it. He makes no movement to brush it away. 

"Apparently people think I'm in love with you," Harry mutters, tickling Draco's neck with his lips and breath.

"I wouldn't be surprised if you were, just look at you clinging onto me for dear life,"

"Maybe that's why. Someone is watching us and seeing this,"

"That sounds extremely sexual,"

"Wow-" Harry raises his head and shakes it- "it does. I'm so sorry."

Draco blushes at the thought of that phrase not being accidentally sexual, instead thoughts of what could be happening instead of talking right now race, causing his heart to pump harder than it usually does, a lump in his throat, and blood rushing more than one place. Harry's arms are still around the Slytherin's waist, hugging the older boy tightly. 

The brunette lowers his chin down on Draco's shoulder once again. "I think you have a boner," he whispers. 

Draco looks down and readjusts his shirt so it's covering it. 

"Am I the reason?" Harry whispers once again, Draco's breath stopping for half a second. 

"What- no. Of course not. That's- why- that's absurd." Draco is shaking his head vigorously the entire time he's speaking. 

"Alright then."

In the light of Draco's pale lumos, he can see Harry smirking as he buries his face in the pale neck again. 

"Two." The brunette mumbles. He speaks louder for Draco, "you're pretty horny,"

"I'm an eighteen year old male, what do you expect?"

"Fair enough,"


	11. Night Eleven

“Where are you going Harry?”

He stops completely still. A few embers in the fireplace reflect in his glasses. The floor creaks ever-so-slightly under his left foot as he moves his toe the slightest bit. 

“You idiot, I know you’re there, I can see your foot,” Hermione shakes her head, quickly nodding it toward his red sock on the right foot, uncovered by the cloak. He looks down, glasses almost falling off, seeing his foot is showing. 

He takes the entire cloak off. “Don’t tell anyone, please?”

”Where’re you going?” Hermione shoves the parchment away and leans forward, arms crossed and a smirk on her face. 

He raises an eyebrow in confusion. “On a walk,”

”And tonight is the first and only night you’ve done it, yes?”

Harry nods firmly, his ears heating up. 

“Then why do I see that portrait hole open and close every night at this time? And you know how I can go up to the boys dormitory whenever I please? Why are you always sitting at that lake with Malfoy?”

”Please don’t tell anyone!” Harry begs.

“Under two circumstances: one, what are you two doing down there cuddling and stuff? Two, bring me tonight. I need to meet him face to face. Make sure he’s not abusing you anymore,”

Harry sighs heavily, rolling his eyes. Hermione stands, holding out a hand. He takes it and they shake on the deal. “I’ll tell you on the way down.”

The two friends have a hard time staying under the cloak at the same time, but eventually find a flow. Harry explains everything from how they’re so civil to why they’re so close already to what they talk about. Every question she asks, he answers. 

“Is he nice?”

”If sarcastic and a smartass means nice, then yes,”

”Have you two ever kissed?”

”No. I’m not gay,”

”Have you slept in the same bed?”

”Almost,”

”Why do you cuddle so much? It’s cute,”

”I dunno. Just do, I guess,”

”Wait, are you two dating!?”

”What? No, no. We’re just friends,”

And before either of them know it, they’re down at the lake waiting for Draco to arrive. Five minutes in silence, Hermione begins talking, interrupted by Draco racing down the hill. 

“Why the bloody hell is she down here, Harry?” Draco growls, stopping mere inches from Harry’s face. The brunette laughs lightly. 

“You’re cute when you’re angry,” He mutters. “Turns our shes been spying on us this entire time,”

”She knows?! I thought no one knew!”

”I didn’t think she did,”

”I swear on Merlins left bollock, if you don’t get her to leave, say goodbye to your balls,”

”Draco, calm down. She just wants to make sure you’re not abusing me,”

Hermione stands, hair bouncing on her way. “Are you abusing Harry?” She says, a hint of anger in her voice. Draco’s rage shrinks into pure fear and huddles beside Harry. 

“I wouldn’t think so,”

“Make sure to never do so again, I’m not afraid of the Unforgivables if it’s to defend my friends, got it?”

Draco’s eyes widen and he instinctively grabs Harry’s forearm. He nods. Hermione smiles up at him, acting as if nothing happened. The look of terror and confusion on the blonde’s face is enough to make Harry laugh. 

“Both if you are welcome back up with me if you’d like,” Hermione grins at them then begins her trek back up the hill, going invisible half way up. 

Draco turns back to Harry. “Wandless non-verbal? And a spell only Dumbledore could do?”

”She is the top student of our year.” Harry shrugs then sits, Draco’s hand moving to his shoulder. “Are you gonna sit or not?”

“Can we go up? I wanna know what your common room looks like,”

Harry picks up the cloak again and covers Draco with it first, ducking under it only a few seconds later, coming face to face with the blonde. 

“Your eyes a pretty,” Harry whispers, warm air escaping his lips. Draco blinks and let’s out a small laugh. 

“Thanks, I guess.” Through the darkness, Harry can just barely make out a dimple. 

Mindlessly, Harry lifts his hand up and rests four fingers behind the Slytherin’s ear, thumb poking Draco’s dimple softly. He feels the other boy’s cheek heat up from a blush. The blonde takes Harry’s limp fingers and begins playing with them, closing his eyes, which, funnily enough, began this whole ordeal. 

With both pairs of eyes closed, they begin leaning in, breaths mingling. Harry feels the brush of a pair of lips against his own. It gives him a rush. A strange rush he’s never felt before. A kind of rush that makes him want to hold on to everything he knows. A kind of rush that makes him want to jump for joy. He wants to keep this rush forever, as long as he can, until he dies. 

There are stars behind Harry’s eyelids. Stars that light up everything, even in the darkness. He pushes forward and knits his eyebrows together, kissing Draco hard. 

Draco. This is Draco Malfoy. The boy that he’s continuously said they’re just friends about. The boy he’s hated since year one. The boy he’s always said they’re going to the ball as friends to. 

So why does it feel like that’s all going out the window?

Draco takes a step back, eyes wide, breathless. “That... I’m- I’m sorry. So sorry. Fuck. That was wierd. I didn’t mean to- that was on accident. Fuck, sorry. I’m just... sorry...”

Harry blinks a couple times to come to terms with what Draco’s saying. They just kissed. And- they just kissed. 

“No it’s fine. Heat of the moment thing. It’s fine. Don’t apologise. Completely okay. Don’t worry. Won’t happen again,” Harry stutters. “We still going up?”

Draco nods and stands next to Harry awkwardly, their arms barely touching. Their way up is tense and too awkward to be considered humanly possible. The first word spoken on their way is ‘Honeysuckle’, the password to the Gryffindor common room. 

“Bringing in a boy, I see? Does that imply what I’m thinking?” The fat lady smirks down at Harry, able to see through the cloak. 

“What did Mione tell you?”

”Just that you are now dating this nice Slytherin boy,”

”Not true,”

”The girl never lies.” She wags her finger at them as they enter the common room,

Harry pulls off the cloak and drapes it over the back of the sofa. He sits down closer to Hermione in her chair, Draco plopping down so their thighs touch only moments later. 

“You two finally decided to get up here. Took long enough.” She raises her eyebrows at the boys, scribbling something on the parchment then setting it aside. Her hair bounces with every movement, strands falling in her eyes and around her neck.

“Had some...”

”Technical difficulties,” Harry finishes, recalling that term from his time at the Dursley’s. 

“But it’s all worked out now. Nothing too bad. Perfectly fine.”

Hermione purses her lips and nods slowly and sarcastically. 

The three stay up until the sun begins shining through the large windows around the room. Orange light makes its home across floors and chairs. Birds fly around the tower and owls can be seen in the distance, coming back from their nightly adventures. Hermione stands, tucking the parchment away and turns to go back up to the girls dorms. Harry and Draco look at each other, avoiding eye contact but both blatantly wanting it. 

“Should I walk you down?” Harry asks, breaking the silence. 

Draco hesitantly nods, quickly followed by Harry covering both with the invisibility cloak. 

Both boys are in a tense silence until they reach the echoey dungeons, where Draco breaks it. 

“Look, can we both forget about that and just... go on with this friendship? It was just a heat of the moment thing, neither of us were thinking, can we go back to normal,”

Harry stares at the floor as they walk, thinking. Does Draco genuinely want to forget about that? How? It’s basically the only thing that has been on Harry’s mind the last few hours, and Draco just wants to forget it? Even when the kiss wasn’t that bad, when the blonde had gotten multiple boners in the close presence of Harry? Just act like nothing happened?

”Yep, that’s fine.” The Gryffindor smiles up at his friend. 

Draco returns the smile, but Harry can’t help but be convinced it was forced.


End file.
